De Chat à L'Homme Deuxième Partie
by Spun Trumak
Summary: Sequel to De Chat à L'Homme. Genevieve and Munkustrap aren't exactly experiencing the 'Happily Ever After' they imagined. But, with the help of a special kitten and the new found power of Mistoffelees, it just might work. R&R...please. ON HIATUS.


"Mummy, can we get this?" the small brown-eyed girl asked her mother holding a box of the brightest and most sugar filled cereal in the whole store.

"Jem, we're only getting stuff for dinner. Plus, you don't need that, it's bad for you." the little girl's mother said robotically, her mind in another place.

The girl, no older than three, sighed in defeat but not with out a pout in the process.

The mother scooped the girl up and hurriedly paid for the few items.

Racing to their car the two sped off and came upon a small flat where two men were waiting outside of.

"Shit," the woman cursed under her breath getting out of the car quickly.

The more muscular of the two men smiled while the other stifled a laugh, as they watched the frantic woman gather the groceries and her daughter out of the car.

"I thought you said you weren't going to be here by five." The woman said hurriedly.

"Seems I must have misplaced my watch." The man said in a warm tone, a smile playing on his lips.

He took the toddler from the woman's arms so the woman had a free hand.

"Daddy!" the girl said hugging the man around the neck as he kissed her cheek.

The woman found a key and unlocked the door and the four stepped inside and quickly going to the kitchen.

"Here, why don't you sit and play with Uncle Tugger okay?" the man said to the girl.

She nodded as he went off to the kitchen.

The woman was standing over the store cooking as the man wrapped his hands around her waist.

She moved out of his grasp and went to the fridge.

"Munk, I'm trying to cook dinner," she said in an aggravated tone.

"Are you mad at me?" he questioned.

"Frustrated that's all."

"Demeter, can we talk about this?"

"Not now Munkustrap; and my name is Genevieve."

The two stared at each other for a long moment.

"I'm leaving," the man sighed.

"Munk, I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out that's all."

"You're always stressed and you're always frustrated and you're always tired. You haven't been in the Junkyard in three years Demeter. They think you're dead and I'm mad." Munkustrap's voice was cold and hard.

Demeter was speechless.

"At first I accepted it; you wanted to have a human birth and I accepted that, but you never came back Dem. I miss you. I miss _us_."

"This is all she knows. I don't want to take this away from her."

"This was all you knew for twenty years, Dem. But, you came and you survived."

"But I was an adult! She's only a baby. She belongs here Munk."

"She is my daughter too, but that hardly means anything to you! She deserves to live in my world also." He growled.

Demeter's face changed from anger to apology.

"I'm sorry Munk. She does deserve to live with you, as the real you. I don't want to keep her from who she really is either. But she is just so young now; can we just wait until she is older? Old enough to understand?" Demeter pleaded.

-------

(Thirteen Years Later)

"Mum! You home?"

I open up the door to my flat I share with my mother.

There was no reply.

I walked into the kitchen to see a man sitting in a chair.

"Hello?" I said nervously reaching for the pocket knife in my back pocket.

I always though my mum was crazy for making me carry it around, but suddenly I saw her point in carrying it at that moment.

"Jemima?" the man said.

I walked closer to see the muscular man with a worn yet youthful face.

"Dad?" I gasped out stunned.

"Jem!" he came up and gave me a hug, kissing me on the forehead.

"How did you get in? Where is my mum?" I asked happy, but confused.

"She went to the store to pick up some things, but she should be back soon."

This was a rare occasion.

My father rarely ever came home.

He and my mum loved each other, very much.

But he always seemed to never be able to stick around long.

My mum told me that he had a travelling business and that's why he never was home.

He came around every year or so, but it was always a quick 'hello' and an even quicker 'good-bye'.

Rarely did he ever stay for dinner or even a chat.

"So how are you, love?" he asked smiling.

"Alright I suppose." I responded savouring every moment I had with him.

"How was your birthday? It was last week right?"

"Yeah, it was good. Mum took me to Paris for the weekend. It was a lot of fun." I told him.

"Sounds like it." He smiled.

"So how long are you staying?" I asked.

"I think we are going to talk about that when your mum gets back."

"Dad, did you get laid off?" I asked worried.

"Uhm, you could say that." He said nervously.

Right then my mum came in.

She came into the kitchen with boxes of Chinese take-out.

"Mum, what's going on? Is dad staying? Is he going to live with us?" I said immediately bombarding her with questions.

"Jemima, we have to talk." She said handing me the box of take-out.

That was the last moment of my life as Jemima Caronn as I knew it.


End file.
